


Pregnant, not dying

by reddeadmort



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 17:17:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18348170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddeadmort/pseuds/reddeadmort
Summary: Reader is in a relationship with Arthur, and pregnant. Arthur is being very protective, and nearly loses it after an accident in a shop.Second work in the 'Going Steady' Collection - these stories weren't deliberately written as follow ons, but do work well together.Other Going Steady stories:Paired up,There's something about Mary,We're off on an O'Driscoll Hunt





	Pregnant, not dying

Arthur Morgan was many things; gorgeous, kind, artistic, with a shoulder to waist ratio that made you weak at the knees, even after all these years. But, right now, Arthur was…….doing your head in. 

Ever since you’d found out about your pregnancy, he’d been treating you differently, trying to help with everything. But since you’d started properly showing, and now you were getting close, he was acting like you were made of glass. You were normally so independent, and not being able to do simple things easily, like picking up a dropped pencil, annoyed you terribly. As Arthur guided you to a chair near the campfire, he asked if you needed anything for what felt like the 10th time in as many minutes. 

  
“Arthur, god dammit, I’m pregnant, not dying” you snapped. As soon as the words left your lips, you knew they were a mistake. A horrible thing to say to this man that had been through so much. You sighed, quickly grabbing his large hand.

  
“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m just fed up of not being able to help out and move around like I used to. And you know I don’t like clumping around in these damn dresses.” Arthur was hurt, but smiled at you sympathetically. No matter what you said, you were carrying his child, and he couldn’t love you any more than he did at that moment. 

  
“S’all right darlin’. I know you’re frustrated. Tell you what, Miss Grimshaw has asked me to pick up some supplies from town. Why don’t ya come with me. We’ll be takin’ the wagon, so should be a gentle ride.”

  
You smiled at him; while you were sure his fussing would be the death of you, you loved how much effort he put in to try to make you happy. 

  
“Sure thing darling, that’d be real nice.” You sat quietly, listening to the birdsong, feeling your baby kick inside you as you waited for Arthur to gather what he needed. It was peaceful here; but you could do with getting out again, seeing people that weren’t part of your odd little family.

  
The journey took longer than usual, Arthur being very careful to make it as smooth a ride as possible. He brought the cart to a stop outside the Valentine general store, and quickly made his way around to help you down. This was one moment you were more than willing to have his help; you were practically waddling instead of walking as it was, and getting down from a cart was no mean feat in your condition. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders while Arthur carefully hoisted you up into the air and gently deposited you on the ground.

  
“You go on into the store darlin’, I’ve got an errand to run in the gunsmith. Won’t be long, promise.” Arthur smiled at you and quickly kissed your cheek; you always loved the feel of his stubble against your soft skin. Arthur helped you up the few steps to the store, then headed off up the road. You lingered for a moment, admiring the view as he walked away from you, then opened the shop door.

  
“Good morning ma’am, lovely to see you again. What can I get for you today?”   
You liked the Valentine general store owner. He was a kind, family man, and never rushed you to make your mind up about your purchases. You’d made sure the gang knew not to cause any fuss in or near his store; they wouldn’t normally target a place like this, but you’d thought it best to make it clear to some of the more…. _challenging_  members of the group. 

  
“Good morning Francis! Quite a long list today I’m afraid, might take a little while.” You smiled, leaning against the counter, and handed Francis the handwritten note. “Oh and I don’t suppose you’ve managed to procure the item I..err…. mentioned last time?” You shuffled awkwardly, you had no idea why this embarrassed you so much. 

  
“Of course I have my dear! And please, don’t fret yourself, my wife had far stranger requests than yours when she was in the same way.” He smiled at you, chuckling slightly, as he reached under the counter and presented you with the object of your latest craving; beet juice. “Do be careful though, that red can be a devil for staining everything” he warned. 

  
“You’re a wonderful man Francis, I can’t thank you enough.” You left the jar on the counter as the shopkeeper turned away to start fetching the other items on the long list the gang members had cobbled together. 

  
Suddenly, two young well-dressed men burst into the shop, with a young woman trailing anxiously behind them. 

  
“Acrisius, you are too much of a coward to even buy bait, let alone use it!”

  
“My dear Proetus, I will be rubbing that bait on myself while you cower behind a rock!”

  
“Good man, two of your finest packages of Predator bait please!” they chorused at the shopkeeper, while their unfortunate female companion just stood there, shaking her head. 

  
You chuckled to yourself; Arthur had told you about these two. Constantly trying to outdo the other, he was certain they were going to get themselves killed one of these days. 

  
“You boys off hunting?” you asked, eyebrow raised. 

  
“Why yes I am dear lady!” Proetus responded. “I am going to prove how much braver I am than this fool by wrestling with a wolf!”.

  
“Pish, Proetus, pish!” Acrisius scoffed. “I will be wrestling two wolves while you are crying for mother!”. 

  
Smiling, you sighed.  _What idiots._

 _  
_ “You boys ever even seen a wolf?” The two young men stuttered slightly, bravado slightly dampened. “Because I have. I’ve shot whole packs of ‘em. And I’ve seen what they can do to a prepared hunting man. Let alone two townies like yourselves.” The boys, attempting to cover their growing nervousness, tried to interrupt you, but you didn’t let them.

  
“You see, the first thing they’ll do is try and get you off your horse. So that means either you falling off as your horse panics and rears, or they’ll clamp their jaws around your foot and drag you off.” You continued, enjoying the expressions slowly changing on the boys’ faces. “Either way, you’re on the ground. And that’s when they’ll go for you. If you’re lucky, it’ll be quick, and they’ll tear your throat out in one go. If you’re unlucky, they may miss; and I can tell you first hand that the noises a man having his face torn off by wolves makes are ungodly.” Your words were having the desired effect; both boys were growing paler by the word. You really didn’t want these boys to end up in the wilderness.

  
“I’ve patched braver, stronger, men than you up after they’ve been savaged and survived, and believe me, they cried as I slowly stitched the holes in their cheeks together. One fella, I could see clean through into his bloodied mouth….”  _There we go._  

  
That last thought proved too much for Proetus, and he keeled over, face first, hitting the floor with a thud. You burst out laughing, you couldn’t help yourself; these poor lads were just too amusing to someone that had had a life like yours.   
Acrisius straightened up – you could tell he was trying his hardest not to lose his breakfast – and regained some of his previous bravado. 

  
“I believe it is finally settled! I, Acrisius, am the bravest brother, and am therefore…..” He stepped forwards, forgetting about his brother’s prone body. He tripped, flying towards you, knocking the beet juice to your feet. The jar shattered, splattering bright red juice up your skirt; Acrisius tried to catch himself, only managing to grab your arm and send you tumbling into the grain sacks behind you. They broke your fall well; it was undignified, but you were unhurt. The sight of them both sprawled on the floor was all too much, and your laughing became hysterical; you could barely breathe as you laughed so hard it actually hurt. 

  
Arthur was feeling quite pleased with himself as he strolled back from the gunsmiths. He’d carefully sneaked your pistols into his satchel this morning, and had gotten the gunsmith to fit the carefully carved pearl grips he knew you’d been pining over. You’d have never bought them for yourself; they were just cosmetic, and you were far too practical for that. He smiled to himself as he thought about how happy they’d make you; he knew he’d been coddling you too much, but he just couldn’t help himself. This time he was going to be there, to protect you and his child, no matter how much eye-rolling and grumbling his fussing produced.

  
Arthur was only a few metres away when he heard the crash, bang and muffled thuds. His heart stopped, his hand already pulling his revolver out as he sprinted the last few metres and crashed through the door of the shop. The sight before him made his heart break; you were on the floor, struggling to breath, tears streaming down your face, covered in blood from the waist down. 

  
He quickly scanned the room for the culprit, a mixture of panic and anger fuelling him. Acrisius was scrambling to his feet; Arthur grabbed the front of his shirt in his fist and helped him the rest of the way, and further. Poor Acrisius’s feet dangled in the air as Arthur shoved his gun barrel under his chin. 

  
“What the hell have you dumb bastards done now!” Arthur yelled in his face. “Actin’ like fools, I told you someone was gonna get hurt!”

  
You tried to speak to Arthur, but still could barely breathe from laughing so hard. Unable to get a word out, you grabbed the first thing to hand and launched it at his back, desperate to get his attention and reassure him before he killed these two flouncing morons. 

  
The apple sailed through the air, hitting Acrisius square in the forehead; the force knocked his head back, slamming it into the wooden beam behind him, knocking him clean out. This made you laugh even harder, clutching at your sides as you practically hyperventilated. You’d never been good at throwing, and what a way to miss. 

  
Shocked, Arthur dropped Acrisius in a crumpled heap on the floor. Rage subsiding, panic became his primary emotion, and he immediately rushed to your side. He grabbed your hands, tears welling up in his eyes.

  
“I’m so sorry (Y/N). So sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I’m a fool, I should never have left you alone, I’ve let you down.” Arthur’s quiet sobs quickly brought your laughing under control. 

  
Your hands broke free from his and you grabbed his face with both of them, forcing him to stare directly into your eyes. 

  
“Darling, look at me. I.am.fine.” You panted, getting your breath back. Arthur was confused, glancing down at your red soaked skirt.

  
“But, (Y/N), your….you’ve….” his voice trailed off as you followed his gaze downwards, finally seeing things from his point of view. 

  
“Oh my poor, handsome, protector.” You smiled at him, his face still clasped in your hands. “You’ve seen plenty of blood in your time. Look closer, does that look like blood?” You released Arthur’s face as he turned his head, taking the time to survey the scene properly. He noticed the shards of glass, how thin the liquid was. Not wanting him to be miserable any longer than he had to be, you quickly reassured him again. “It’s beet juice, my sweet. One of those idiots fainted, and the other fell, knocking it onto the floor. It was so comical darling, I couldn’t contain myself.”

  
Arthur’s shoulders finally relaxed, a huge wave of relief washing over him.   
“Oh god, (Y/N), I thought I’d lost you both”. He smiled at you, gently stroking your face. 

  
“I’m still here Arthur. We’re both still here for you. Now help me up, I feel like a damn turtle stuck on it’s back”. Arthur chuckled and helped you to your feet. As he did so, the two boys groaned, finally starting to come round. 

  
“I’m so sorry about the mess Francis, we’ll pay for the juice of course” you said as you once again leaned on the counter, this time with Arthur’s large arm supporting your waist.

  
“I’m sorry ma’am, but I won’t hear of it.” You’d almost forgotten about the girl that had accompanied the boys into the shop; she was stood in the corner, one hand to her forehead, shaking her head. “These two desperate, silly, men caused all the trouble, and I will make sure they are the ones to foot the bill. Please, anything you came for is on them. And do pick out a new dress for yourself. I’m going to make sure their mother hears of this.”

  
You laughed, and graciously accepted the offer. Arthur loaded the items into the wagon while the girl helped you select a new dress; she insisted on you getting one of the more expensive options. While you didn’t need the charity, you were grateful she did; a nice dress might make you feel a bit more like yourself again. The shopkeeper even managed to procure another jar of beet juice from the back storeroom, which you took gratefully. 

  
As you left the shop, you heard the girl start berating the two boys angrily.   
“I guess she’s finally had ‘nuff of those fellas antics then” Arthur smiled as he hoisted you gently onto the seat of the cart. The ride back to camp was relaxed, filled with laughter, as you explained what had happened. As Arthur came to a stop in the camp, he put his arm around you and gently kissed your forehead, before pulling away quickly. 

  
“I almost forgot (Y/N)! I gotcha a present in town.” He scrabbled at his satchel, quickly producing your two pistols, now adorned with their wonderfully iridescent pearl grips.

  
“Oh Arthur, they’re wonderful, thank you!” You threw your arms around his neck, kissing him firmly on the lips. He smiled his biggest, goofiest grin, before jumping down and hurrying around to your side to help. 

  
As he lifted you down, you playfully hit him on the chest. “By the way Mr Morgan, you better not panic like that when the baby comes!”

  
“I ain’t promisin’ nothin’ (Y/N)”. Arthur grinned, and you sighed, smiling, as you walked hand in hand into the camp.   


End file.
